


I'll Bet You Can't

by Highlander_II



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Community: get_house_laid, Implied Dirty Talk, Mind Games, Multi, Suggested threesome, Teasing, lap dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-13
Updated: 2008-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-07 19:03:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Highlander_II/pseuds/Highlander_II
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a challenge - House has to get Wilson off using only his voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=get_house_laid)[get_house_laid](http://www.livejournal.com/users/get_house_laid/) \- prompt: 065. House/Wilson -- Wilson develops a thing for House's voice. After they get together, Wilson challenges House to get him off by talking, without ever touching him. House takes this challenge very, very seriously.

"I'll bet you can't," Wilson challenged, leaning over his desk to snatch back his sandwich.

House lifted an eyebrow at him and put on a decent pout when his free lunch made a run for it. "How much?"

"What?"

"How much? If this is a bet, what do I win?"

Wilson considered his current position. With this bet, he could have whatever he wanted. He was sure he'd win this. "Blowjobs every night for a week." They'd moved away from betting money, that was only a challenge with everyone else.

House smirked back at him. "How's that different from every other night?"

"No requirement of reciprocation."

House seemed to consider this for a moment. "Nah. I want more."

Wilson balked, thinking of anything that might appease him. "What do you want?" he asked when he came up empty.

"Loser makes dinner every night for the same week," House offered.

It was an unexpected request. More tame than he was expecting from House, but he wasn't going to say 'no'. "Deal."

"You're on." House rocked himself out of the chair and crutched into the hallway.

Wilson dropped his sandwich and nearly had to dump his soda in his lap to calm down.

******

"What are you doing?" Cameron asked when she entered House's office with several files requiring his signature.

House cradled the receiver and turned his head to glare at her. "Making dinner reservations. What are you planning to wear?"

Cameron smirked. "A red ribbon and black stilettos. Sign these." Unceremoniously, she dumped the stack of files on his desk.

House waved a hand in a circle over the stack. "I think you have this backwards. _I_ tell _you_ what to do."

"Except," Cameron stated firmly, "when you have to sign off on the charts. Because you're in charge."

He groaned. "I keep forgetting that part."

Cameron folded her arms over her chest. "So, what's the current challenge with Wilson? Get him to sleep without his pocket protector?"

House arched an eyebrow at her, but continued signing charts. Cameron was the only other person in the hospital who knew what was going on between he and Wilson and he was doing his best to keep it that way. The only reason she knew was because she had been partly responsible for the whole damned situation. He'd never admit, but initially, the idea scared the hell out of him. The mere thought of getting close to anyone, let alone another man, wasn't his idea of a fun time. But, somehow, Cameron-the-romantic, orchestrated some master plan to land the two of them in the right place at the right time.

That's how she knew about the 'weekly challenges' as they had been dubbed. Once it was to see who had the better 'wake-up plan' and last week, to be the first into the shower in order to choose what the morning sex would be. This, he would admit, was fun, but he wasn't sure how long they could keep up the games before they both got bored and tossed the whole idea.

Wilson's latest challenge, however, was proving both interesting and complicated to pull off without making heaps of arrangements.

"Getting him off using nothing but my voice," House responded to her question, slightly frustrated by his current lack of progress. Cameron nearly choked on her own air and House glared at her, wondering if she was okay. "What?" he snapped.

"I'm sorry. Nothing."

House wasn't convinced. "What do you know?"

"Nothing of interest. Good luck with your challenge."

 

He watched her leave noting two things: one, she'd left the damned charting behind and two, she had that smug air about her that meant she knew more than she was telling. She wasn't supposed to have that air, only he was.

******

Wilson looked up from his desk to the body casting the shadow on his paperwork. "Yes?"

"You're going to lose," she said calmly.

"This time, I'm not sure I care." He quirked a little smile. He wanted House to win this time.

Cameron sighed. "You can't give in that easily. He'll know, then all he'll have to do is whisper something hot in your ear and you'll melt like Jell-O in the sun."

Wilson frowned. "As disturbing as that was, he already can."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, but he doesn't _know_ that yet."

"He know it about you?"

A laugh, short, snorted through her nose. "No. Too bad he never figured it out. That would've been fun."

"Exactly."

Cameron shook her head. "You've got it bad."

He jabbed a finger through the air, pointing at her. "It's your fault. We wouldn't be in the middle of any of this if you hadn't arranged the ridiculous phone tag sex operator challenge."

A sly, wicked smile spread over her face. "Come on, that was the most fun we'd had - ever. Especially after Chase and Foreman started trying to one-up House."

"Which was a lost cause from the beginning. House can peel panties from miles away just by breathing right."

Cameron's eyes went wide. "Wow. I didn't know you wore panties."

Wilson threw a pen at her and waved her out of his office. Giggling, she left, pulling the door closed behind her.

She wasn't wrong. That phone sex tag game had been a lot of fun. He still had all of the voicemails from House on tapes in his desk. If he could figure out how to put them on his iPod without House finding them, he'd do that.

He answered the phone on the second ring, not entirely sure he'd heard the first one. "Wilson."

"Hard yet?" came the voice from the other end.

"No," he lied. That voice was already getting to him and there'd only been two words.

"You're lying."

_Dammit._ "I'm not. Cameron was just in here. Put a damper on everything."

A snort of laughter came through the phone. "Only if she dropped off naked photos of the weird orderly from the fifth floor."

"House -"

"Killed it didn't I?"

"Wasn't hard, House."

"Liar."

"I'm hanging up now. I have work to do."

"Am I going to find you in the men's room in two minutes?"

"No." It was almost a lie.

"See you in the John, Jimmy." House hung up.

Wilson sighed and let the receiver fall from his hand. _I am _so_ screwed._.

******

Wilson had managed to subdue his burgeoning erection without waddling himself to the men's room, but it hadn't been an easy task. Getting through the rest of the day had been a mixture of frustrating and disappointing. House called him at regular intervals, teasing him, but never quite got to actually trying to get him off. He was beginning to wonder if House was going to take this seriously or not.

It wasn't until two days later that there was anything near what he'd been expecting from this challenge.

"Oh _Wilson_..." House chimed through the phone.

"Yes, House?" he answered, exasperated.

He could hear House pouting before he even spoke. "Do you not want to play with me anymore?"

"It's not that House. I'm just busy."

"You _could_ be even busier," House suggested.

Wilson fought to keep the groan from escaping. "No, I couldn't. I have work to do."

"You're so boring, Wilson. We could be having fun, but you'd rather look at cancer and write on charts."

Wilson frowned, but was making the best of this. If nothing else, he'd at least get to listen to House talk to him for a while. "I wouldn't _rather_ work, but that is what they pay me for."

"Ugh." Then the line was dead.

No fun talking times for him today.

******

"How's it going?" Cameron asked House over his greasy lunch and her salad.

Sandwich clamped between his teeth, he gave her a questioning look.

"The challenge?" she clarified.

He shrugged. "I'm working on it."

She narrowed her eyes. "You're not going to _fail_ are you?"

He threw a fry at her. "Of course not. What would make you ask that?"

"Nothing. Though, maybe Wilson's stronger than you think." She plucked the fried potato strip from her hair and tossed it back to his plate.

"Wilson's easy. I've been looking forward to this type of challenge for a while."

"Oh?"

"Just thought I'd be doing it to you instead of him." House took a hearty bite of his Reuben, satisfied with the gasping shocked look on Cameron's face.

******

Wilson juggled the items in his arms in order to get to his cell phone as it chirped in his pocket. "Wilson," he answered.

"I know that," House rumbled.

"Of course you did. What's up?"

"Nothing," sing-songed in response.

Wilson sighed. "House, I'm busy. If you need something..."

"You."

That would definitely have an affect. Wilson loved it when House made advances, especially over the phone. The anticipation always made it better. "Yeah?" He almost dropped half of what he was carrying while trying to fish his keys from his pocket.

"No."

"No?"

"That's what I said, 'no'."

"Why not?" Wilson sounded dejected.

"There's somebody else," House stated seriously.

Wilson dropped his keys, a file and one of the boxes in his hand. "What?" This was bad. House was dumping him already? Over the phone. Wilson could already feel the denial creeping in.

"Sorry. This just isn't working for me. I want more."

"More what? Sex? When? At work? Come on, House." He hoped the desperation wasn't pouring through as much as he was feeling it.

"More people."

"What?" Added to the earlier desperation was a sense of confusion. What the hell was House going on about now?

"Sex with more people."

Wilson's heart was pounding in his throat. He wasn't sure he'd be able to breathe, much less talk. He forced air into his lungs, then, "House, if you're breaking up with me, will you just get it over with?" There, he'd said it. He wasn't prepared for it to actually happen, but he had said the words.

"I'm not breaking up with you, you idiot."

"But..."

"I want to bring more people into our sex life," House said, as nonchalant as though he was ordering a pizza.

Wilson dropped the rest of what he was carrying, except the phone, but he couldn't get his voice to work. House had done it again - scared the hell out of him, then turned it around to make it sexy. Damn him.

"Wilson?" House sounded a little worried.

******

"Wilson?" House repeated when the other end of the line was quiet for too long.

"I'm here," Wilson replied and House heard the hint of strain in his voice. "You're an ass."

House laughed. "We both already know that."

"What do you really want?"

"A threesome."

He heard Wilson make a sound that could only be described as 'meep'. It made House smile.

"If you're not interested, I'll just tell her we're busy..."

"Um... you've already arranged it?"

"Oh yeah! I wasn't passing up this opportunity."

"House..."

"Look, if it's not your thing, that's cool. If you'd rather just watch, I'm sure she'd be okay with that too."

The sound this time was more like 'ungh'. House's smile grew wider. This was fun.

"You okay, Jimmy?"

"Uh huh." He heard panting. "Who?"

"Who - what?"

"Who'd you get for the... threesome?" House was pleased with the slight pause just before the word 'threesome'. He was getting close.

For a moment House considered holding off, but the apparent strain in Wilson's voice was telling him 'any time you're ready'. He was ready. He took a breath, pausing long enough for Wilson to attempt to disguise a whimper. "Cameron," he replied, cool as ice.

He heard a groan through the phone, followed by the sound of Wilson's head 'thunking' onto the roof of his Volvo and "Bastard," growled through the line.

House smirked. "I win."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> follow-up challenge: _Who could tease each other at work the most without getting caught by Cuddy. Cameron must help. Who ever cracks under sexual tension loses!_

Cameron knocked twice before opening the door. "Dr. Wilson, I need your help with these... what's wrong?"

Wilson sat behind his desk, muttering to himself over a half-eaten sandwich. Exactly half. He actually looked dejected that it was still sitting there.

"I have no idea," he finally responded to her question.

"Oh god," Cameron sighed and slipped into the chair across the desk. "Wilson..."

He raised a hand to wave her off. "No. I mean, it's something..." He dropped his head to the desk.

Cameron was beginning to realize what was going on. Half of Wilson's lunch was still on his desk, which meant House hadn't been in to steal it. That was enough to get the wheels turning in her head. "When's the last time you had sex?"

Wilson's head snapped up, a look of utter shock on his face. "Um -"

"That long, huh?" She shook her head. "This is bad."

"Tell me about it."

"Oh, I meant for me. Grouchy House is bad House."

Wilson frowned. "He's always grouchy."

"Yeah, but grouchy House who's not getting any is _so_ much worse."

******

"My head hurts, I've been sneezing..." the patient on the table continued to ramble off symptoms.

House rubbed his head, annoyed. After the sixth or seventh symptom, he snapped, "It's a _cold_!" The patient jumped, House was mildly comforted by this. He tried to hide the grin on his face. A task made easier by the interruption at the exam room door. "What?"

"If you're busy, I can come back later..." Cameron indicated the waiting room, brimming with sick people.

"Not busy. He's just going to go to the local drug store and pick up some cold meds, right?" His head turned back to the sniveling patient on the table.

"Uh, right. Yeah. Thanks, doc."

Cameron stepped aside to let the man pass, half-smirked to herself at the familiar scene. Closing the door created a perfect anti-patient barricade.

"We have a patient?" he asked.

"I wish." She rolled her eyes. "You have celibacy."

House's brow furrowed into a very deep frown. "Get out."

"You disagree with my diagnosis?" Cameron asked boldly.

"I disagree with your need to stomp in here and tell me about it." The wheels on the stool squeaked as he rolled himself closer to her, intimidating stare locked in place.

She put out her hand to stop him. "House, I'm going to help."

"Really don't need it."

"You haven't stolen Wilson's lunch in three days. Either you're breaking up or there's something _missing_." This, she realized, was a bold move, but it could also be a hell of a lot of fun.

House gave her a skeptical look.

"A challenge."

House's ears perked up. "I'm listening..."

******

Wilson found himself sandwiched between the balcony door in his office and the full height of one Gregory House. "House, this isn't helping."

"It would be if you were reciprocating," House growled into Wilson's shoulder.

"Maybe. Or, your keys are digging into my crotch and cock-and-ball torture wasn't on today's specials." Though, if House had something other than sharp keys to torture him with, he might _put_ it on the specials board.

House grumbled something impolite, pinched the skin of Wilson's neck between his teeth, then limped out of the office.

As the door clicked closed, Wilson sank to the floor when his knees suddenly decided they weren't cut out for this standing thing anymore. Idly, he reached his hand to his groin and rubbed gently. _Dammit, House..._

******

The guys were moving far too slowly with this challenge, so, Cameron took it upon herself to give the challenge a little kick in the pants...

... by using a little conspiracy.

"You know, it's bad enough that House never knocks before he comes in here, but now he's got his team doing it too..." Wilson complained as she slipped into his office and sat across the desk from him. "...so what do you want?"

She smiled softly, "Sorry. Got a little over-excited I guess."

"About what?" Wilson asked, skeptical.

"Do you want to win this challenge?"

Wilson frowned. "What do you mean?"

Cameron frowned right back, but said nothing.

"You're going to help me?"

"Yes." Cameron smiled again.

"How?" Wilson continued his one-sided game of twenty questions.

She leaned forward, resting her arms on his desk. "You are going to send me to do something. Anything," she suggested.

Another frown from Wilson. "Why are you helping me?"

Cameron rolled her eyes. "Because you two suck at this game."

Wilson actually looked hurt by that. It made her feel a little bad.

"Okay, maybe you don't suck, but I figured you'd be much farther along than this by now."

Wilson's head fell forward, heels of his hands rubbed at his eyes. "You're right. I - I can't get into this. It's - it's just not working."

"Oh crap."

"What?"

"Forget it. I'll come up with something, get him going, say you sent me and - oh, I hope this works." She rose from the chair, headed toward the door, but turned over her shoulder to him, "You owe me for this, Wilson."

******

House looked up from the test results that had been blurring together for the last half hour to find Cameron drawing the blinds and... locking the door? Curious, he lifted an eyebrow and watched her without saying a word. More closing of blinds and locking of doors. Curiouser and curiouser.

Still, he said nothing as she moved. He's not interested in what she's doing there, except that she'd interrupted his pouring over lab results for a patient who might be dying... and then her lab coat hit the floor. This revealed the sexiest outfit he'd seen on Cameron at work since that hot red dress... He swallowed the Vicodin he'd popped into his mouth moments before and suddenly wishes he hadn't done that quite yet. Having all of his faculties alert and focused suddenly seemed to be far more important than ever.

Cameron, wearing stiletto heels of nearly five inches, stalked her way toward him, bent forward and thrust some heavily pushed-up cleavage toward his nose. She whispered something at him that his ears didn't quite pick up and his brain surely didn't process since all he could think was 'breasts'. His hands twitched, wanted to grab, to touch, to play, but he was a good boy and kept his hands to himself in favor of what might be coming up.

The dance continued, apparently to some music in Cameron's head, since there was none playing in House's office, with Cameron shaking her pushed-up cleavage a bit, then turning to press her ass against his lap. As she rubbed and ground against him, House's lap decided to stand up and take notice. His fingers gripped the arms of his desk chair and he tried to control his breathing, but Cameron's skirt was far shorter than he'd thought and her all-but-bare ass was grinding against his jeans and it was all he could do not to throw her down onto the desk.

"Cameron-" the word came out as a strangled croak from his throat.

"Something wrong, honey?" she purred back at him.

He shook his head. "Ungh uh-" It wasn't a lie. There was nothing wrong at all, as long as it was okay for him to need to change his pants in about two minutes.

She tipped her head back and blew her next phrase into his ear, "You are allowed to touch."

His eyes rolled back and his eyelids fluttered closed as he suddenly lost all control. "Oh god -" he muttered as his head dropped back.

Cameron dragged her teeth across his jawline. "Mmmmm - am I that good?"

House panted heavy droughts of air into her ear as he replied in the affirmative.

"I win," Wilson all but crowed from the balcony door. He looked so smug standing there, arms crossed over his chest, healthy smirk on his lips.

"You cheated," House grumbled squeezing Cameron's hips between his fingers.

Wilson snorted. "No I didn't. I used any means necessary. She was obviously a consenting party. It's hard to force someone to give your lover a lap dance." He waved a hand at the lap dancer in question.

"Fine. What do you win?"

"That threesome you promised me you'd already set up."

House arched an eyebrow. "Which one?" he asked with a smirk. There'd been so many.

Wilson nodded toward House's lap dancer. "The one with Cameron."

Cameron turned an almost-angry, but definitely shocked face on House. "You bastard."

House smiled that trademark grin and let the wheels in his head begin to turn.


End file.
